Breakfast Part 2
Military Offices - The walls of the Military divison's main office are plastered with holographic maps of many different concurrent Autobot military operations currently taking place across the galaxy. The computer terminals here are fed data straight from the Decagon's command center, and through it the personnel here are kept up-to-date on the latest Autobot and Decepticon movements. To the northeast is the Office of Military's Director, to the southeast is the Office of Military's CO, and finally on the eastern end of the room is a corridor that leads back to the Office Lobby Room. Obvious exits: leads to Office of Military CO - . leads to Office of Military Director - . leads to Office Lobby Room - . Office of Military CO - This office room is empty. Apparently the intended occupant of this office has yet to move in their belongings yet. Other than a desk and a big tent made out of sheets in a corner where Whirl lives, Impactor's office is more or less empty. Also, don't look in the tent. Impactor is sitting at his desk, clawing his harpoon into the top of it. Firestar arrives quietly, giving a few knocks on the door frame in quick succession. She doesn't sound apprehensive or off-put in anyway. Cool and collected. "You rang, Boss?" Impactor gestures her in. "I rang." He pulls a bottle of something that looks poisonous out of a desk drawer and takes a swig before offering it to her. "Breakfast?" After a second swig, he gets down to business: "I'll keep this simple, because I don't like wasting time or looking at people. I've recommended to High Command that you be fired from Operations." Firestar waves a polite, dismissive hand. "Thanks, but no thanks. Some other time, maybe... you know, when it's not still 'morning'." She tries to not sound overly condescending, though she doubts Impactor would make much fuss of it anyway. She steps into the office now, taking up station in front of the desk while folding her hands together behind her, cocking her head to one side in a show of slight surprise. "I see," she simply offers in reply. Impactor just shrugs as the beverage decline. Not all Autobots recognize the potential of breakfast to be the day's first opportunity to not feel anything anymore. "Total waste of your time and talent. So you're fired. The silver lining is that you've got a job with me. Military, Rank 2. If you want it." Firestar hmmms to herself, offering a small nod in response as she internally mulls over the 'offer' - which in all honestly is a cleverly disguised order. Firestar didn't join the Autobots just to get a number beside her name. Promotions are nice and all, but immaterial in the end. She blows by the thinly veiled compliment, getting right to the heart of the matter. "It does seem that military operations proper have been steadily increasing as of late. If the military division is where Autobot Command needs me, that's where I'll be. You can't fight Shockwave for four million years and not pick up a thing or two," she muses. Impactor nods in agreement to the Shockwave bit. "Nope. You can't. At any rate, welcome aboard. Check in with your Rank 3 Captains, make sure they know you and the axe are available. Welcome to our messed up little family. Don't die." Firestar nods firmly as Impactor finalizes the deal, "Will do." She rolls back on her heels and can't help but smirk a little before giving Impactor a mock salute as she turns to exit. "Don't plan on it."